My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

I think I must have forgotten how long and treacherous the trail to our secret training grounds actually was. Either that or I just never noticed it before.

The path forward just absolutely ridden with the steepest climbs and sharpest plunges. Don't even get me started on how many I nearly tripped over a hidden root or ditch.

Maybe I'm just a bit off-kilter from being on a bike for too long. Then again Irene's been navigating through the same pitfalls as I was… all while wearing heels, and she's just clacking on ahead without the slightest stumble.

Maybe that's the secret. Maybe I should start wearing heels like her.

By the time we reached our spot—the open glade of vast skies and sprawling meadows—I was about ready to resign myself to a life rolling around in a wheelchair with the way my calves were flaring up, like I'd eroded all the muscle marching through navigating all those hazards, it genuinely was a realistic concern for me.

But then all it took was one step into the field, slipping through the invisible threshold of the rest of the world and this singular, exceptional spot amidst miles upon miles of woodlands, and everything wrong, every single ache and stitch immediately evaporated.

Rather, it felt like they were being transformed; the throbbing pain instead becoming a surplus of energy surging all across my body. And instead of thinking about wheelchairs, I felt I could be doing cartwheels 'till the day I die.

I guess that's the magic of secret magical wellsprings for you.

"Empty," I heard Irene mutter. "Strange."

"Strange?" I inquired, only for her to straight up ignore me or maybe just not hear me.

"Before we get on with it, I forgot to ask," Irene spun around toward me, and from the looks of it, she was basically no different from before even entering the wellspring. As pristine and perfect as ever. "Too late now, but… have you had lunch yet? I meant to ask you while we were still on the road."

"I guess that makes two of us," I said. "I completely forgot I haven't eaten yet. Have you?"

"I did," she said, her expression stiffening as she spoke. "Well, aren't I just so considerate? It should have been the first thing I asked you when I met you. If it weren't for a certain trio distracting me beforehand…"

"It's fine. We're here already," I said. "And in a place like this, how on earth am I supposed to feel hungry?"

"You only feel like you won't be hungry, but that doesn't mean you won't be. The second you step out…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, alright? Right now, I just really wanna know what you have in store."

But Irene was totally inconsolable.

"I could get Ken to order pizza," she said, taking her phone out and doing some quick-flicking with her thumb. "My treat, alright?"

"Ken?" I could feel the cold air flow right into my open mouth. "Again?"

"He did it last time. Means he'll be just as happy to do it again."

Ken, the park ranger of this place, practically bolted out of this little wooden box the second he heard us roaring out onto the entrance. Irene did her usual thing with him, batting her eyelids at him into total and absolute submission.

This time, they exchanged numbers, just a little heads-up for Irene for when Dad eventually arrived.

Still don't know why that was necessary. I mean, he probably would call me anyway when he's here, but whatever… sure, I guess.

"Pizza? Really?" I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. "You really think that guy would march all the way here to deliver pizza? Even for you?"

"He will if I ask nicely," she said coolly, putting the phone to her ear. "And no, not all the way here. Just halfway. I'll meet him at the cabin, take it from him there."

"You can let me handle that," I blurted automatically. No idea why I did that.

Irene smirked a little, and it bothered me somewhat how smug she looked when she heard me say that. Almost like she knew why.

"If you say so."

So after having placed an order for a large pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni, it was finally time to do what we came here to do. And on that front, I still had no goddamn idea what the hell it even was.

Irene shifted a little. Her stare, her stance… the air of professionalism and authority exuding through it all. Pocketing her phone, she directed her full undivided focus toward me, like a strict teacher about to address a middling student.

"I told you today we're going to find out what you're capable of, remember?"

"So you said," I affirmed. "But you've never exactly told me how yet."

"The same way you've been learning so far—a bit of practice, and a lot of that bullheaded determination you never seem to run out of."

Out of nowhere, Irene began taking steps toward me until we were about to face-to-face. I felt the familiar shoot ecstasy of whenever she suddenly grabbed hold of me somewhere—in this case—my wrist, my hand, laying it facing up atop her palm. She gave it a quick look, a slow turn, before promptly moving on to my other hand and proceeding to do much of the same.

"This is new," I said, watching her move onto my arms and shoulders. "Is getting me all hot and bothered part of the new training regime too?"

"Sorry, but just bear with it for a little while longer," she said, grazing the bare skin of my neck and lifting up my chin with a tilt of her finger. "I just need to make sure your body is in perfect shape. Physically and mentally. If you're coming around with a small fever or your mind isn't in the right place, that can potentially tamper with the results."

"I'm fine. I'm focused."

"Not up to you to say for sure," Irene said, the sensation and warmth of her hands pressing gently on both sides of my face. "Shush for now. And try not to pounce on me if you can. I know you want to."

Yeah with the way she's been feeling and fondling me all over for the past minute or so, what the hell else can my mind think of?

The thing was, I consider myself plenty used to Irene's intoxicating influence on the male psyche. I've been with and around her long enough to temper some semblance of self-restraint. But this… this was like being tickled with a feather every two seconds. A very stimulating, exhilarating feather at that.

For some reason, Ash's words popped into my head. What she said about having too much fun, and how Irene would make extremely sure that I do. I started to think… wonder… just what does Irene have planned later tonight? She doesn't show it, but I know she's definitely put a lot of thought into it. Fun, huh?

Fun…

"Your heart's beating faster," I felt my eyes whirling around in a blur, finding myself lost in the stark black of her eyes and just how pretty they looked. "Are you just nervous? Or is that because of me?"

I almost laughed at how silly that question was. "Take a guess."

Irene didn't say anything, simply continuing once more with her health check-up. A hand on my chest, another still pressed against my cheek. Then I had another thought: how come it's only her that gets to touch me? Seems a bit unfair, no?

She kept going, and I just kept standing. One minute, two minutes, then finally, I decided to move my arm a little, and simultaneously as I did so, Irene stopped moving. She blinked, and I heard her breath out a little… a rigidness slightly showing in her expression.

"I told you to control yourself."

"I did," I said in earnest. "I didn't pounce on you, did I?"

"No, but…" For a quick second, she glanced downwards, eyeing the tiny creases and rolls of her uniform, and where my hand was squeezing heartily on her chest. "...I'm sure you know that also meant to keep your hands off my breasts."

"Your instructions were unclear," I said to my defense, feeling my fingers sink and melt in her suppleness. "Also I'm not thinking too straight."

"You don't say."

"Why? Am I bothering you by doing this?" I asked innocently, slowly putting my other arm around her waist. "Do you not want me to touch you?"

There, like slow, rippling cracks in glass, her hard stare began to falter. "It's not a matter of me wanting or not."

"Do you not like it when I touch you?"

"Once again, that's not what I—"

"Training comes first, sure, but it's alright if we just start a little later, right?" I pulled her in closer, pressing her body up against mine, our lips just mere inches from doing the same. "Irene, come on… is it?"

"N-not… not right now, alright?"

"You don't sound like you mean it," I said, smirking upon hearing the obvious fluster in her voice. "If you really want to stop, then you should really mean what you say. Otherwise…"

"We're not alone."

It was the firmness in her words that immediately snapped me out of it. I felt my hold on her come loose, and she quickly pulled away. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and evidently, she was more than a little bit ruffled.

"Not alone?" I spun my head around the place. "Who else is…?"

"You can come out now!" Irene yelled into the vast nothingness of trees and bushes, still in the process of collecting her composure as she did. "You don't need to just keep watching! You're already late anyway! I told you to be right here when we arrive, didn't I?"

That's when I heard it. My eyes snapped to my left, and instantly, I spotted it; a rustling in the branches of many trees, the flutter and fall of stray leaves hitting the ground. I blinked once, and there, on a once empty patch of dirt in the distance, stood a figure. And even without everything else—the head of flowing silver hair, the swirl of soft misty eyes—just the way she was slouching in place would have given it all away.

Adalia slowly blinked, and even from afar, even as hollow and empty as they were, somehow I could still feel the intense weight as she peered right at me.

And just like that, I don't feel like touching anyone again for the rest of my life.